Nightwatch
by NKfloofiepoof
Summary: Steeljaw is on a mission to retrieve information from the Nemesis, but he runs into a little...resistance. Warning: kitties


**A/N:** So...yeah. I wasn't nearly as productive over Christmas break as I wanted to be. xx This was written in response to the November challenge at the LJ community mechaerotica _Somebody Needs Some Lovin'_ for underdone characters. The cassettes were listed. I couldn't help myself - I'm a cassette fanatic. My initial thought was Rumble and Frenzy/Ravage, but then Steeljaw butt in and demanded some lovin', and who am I to argue against kittypr0n?

The real question is if they're robots, does it still count as bestiality...?

* * *

While their kind did not have to recharge at night unlike organic life and could, in fact, remain functional for days on end without the need to actively recharge, night was still very quiet. It was as if there was a universal agreement that night should not be tampered, that night was for contemplation and relaxation, and thus, quiet descended on both the Ark and the Nemesis as the sun descended in the Earthling sky. Some continued to make noise as they relaxed in a recreational room or boasted their previous victories or even did unmentionable things to one another, but it was little enough that it did not bother those who preferred the calm.

As such, it was hardest to infiltrate either base at night, but he was good at what he did, and he barely made even the tiny clinking noise of metal against metal as he carefully placed one foot in front of the other, determination making every step as sure as the last. Laserbeak did this to them all the time - by Primus, he could do it too.

Steeljaw carefully made his way through the ventilation shaft - something which he had yet to discern why both the Ark and the Nemesis needed in the first place - and half-dimmed his optics when he approached only the fourth grate he had found during his already two hour long mission. While he did not understand the purpose of the ventilation system - after all, it was not as if their kind had to worry about oxygen circulation - he did recognize the fact that the Decepticons at least were just a little smarter in their design. There were very few openings to the Nemesis' ventilation system which made it far more difficult for him to determine his exact location. The Ark had grates scattered all over the entire ductwork which made Laserbeak's infiltration and spy missions easier than making an Autobot's engine rev. He rather welcomed the challenge.

With his optics dimmed halfway, their blue glow was not immediately noticeable, and he was able to look through the slats in the grate in an attempt to determine his location. Perfect - he was right over the Decepticons' War Room.

Taking the grate off without making noise was more of a challenge than simply finding the right room. He first tried bending each corner outwards, but that only made a lot of noise which was the last thing he wanted to do. In the end, Steeljaw had to force his paw between the slats in the grate and bend them apart. It barely gave him enough room to squeeze through, but he managed even if it cost him a good amount of his orange paint. It stung, but as long as he retrieved the information he wanted, it would be worth it.

He quickly jumped onto the large table in the center of the room and located the console. A cord slipped out of his chest which he took into his jaws and carefully plugged into the console so he could begin downloading everything he could - strategy meeting logs, resource information, private video meetings between Megatron and Shockwave, and even a rather disturbing private meeting between Skywarp and Thundercracker which involved one shoved over the table and writhing. Steeljaw doubted Optimus Prime wanted that, but he downloaded it anyway if only to see the look on his masked face when he viewed it. It could not be healthy to be that prudish.

Anything which had taken place in the room for the last month had been recorded or typed up and stored in the console on the table for reference in future meetings, and Steeljaw copied it all to his own database. His tape whirred in his chest as he recorded as quickly as he could. Surely there was _something_ the Autobots could use to their advantage.

His head jerked around when he heard a faint clink, audio receptors twisting in multiple directions. He downloaded faster as he surveyed the dark room which was still empty as far as his sensors could tell. This was taking too long - he needed to pace up and get back into the ducts before he was caught. Satisfied he was still the only one in the room, Steeljaw slowly brought his head back around from where he had been looking over his shoulder so he could watch the door in front of him again.

Blue optics met red set into a black face, and Steeljaw let out a startled snarl though he managed to keep himself from stepping backwards in his surprise and instead stood his ground against the Decepticon in front of him. Ravage returned the orange cassette's growl with one of her own and took a silent step forward to put them face-to-face, noses nearly touching. Still, Steeljaw stood his ground and rumbled threateningly to drown out the noise of his almost screeching tape as he recorded as fast as he could though the cabling in his legs tensed nearly painfully as he prepared to disconnect and leap away if he was attacked.

Ravage was less than impressed by Steeljaw's attempts to threaten her, but she surprised the orange cassette by not attacking. She instead slowly circled the still snarling Steeljaw, and the Autobot cassette had to twist his neck around to keep an optic on his rival without turning his body in a way which would disconnect him from the console before he was finished. Ravage merely walked around him completely twice, keeping her distance for nearly half a breem before she stopped next to Steeljaw, side-to-side, and Steeljaw's recording finally completed just as Ravage finally bent her neck forward and rubbed the very tip of her nose along the bare metal on Steeljaw's side where his paint had been scraped away.

Steeljaw snapped his data cable back into his chest and leaped away in surprise, spinning to face the Decepticon cassette. His side tingled where Ravage's nose had touched the exposed metal made sensitive by the removal of his paint, but it was not a necessarily _bad_ feeling - just strange, like the tingle in his piping when he stood too long in snow or cold water. Ravage seemed to be amused at his reaction which only replaced his surprise with anger, and the Autobot cassette snarled again and hunched his shoulders, hydraulics and cables tensing in preparation to leap. His snarl cut off abruptly, however, when he heard a very different noise from Ravage - a rumbling in the black cassette's chest rather than her throat which made the table itself vibrate.

Did Ravage just _purr_ at him?

The noise came again - why, yes, she did indeed purr at him. Steeljaw was too dumbfounded by that revelation to notice when Ravage moved again until the black cassette was beside him and once more nosing the exposed strip of metal on Steeljaw's side. The contact was heavier this time, more forceful, and the tingle it sent through his body drew a purr of his own before he could stop himself. Steeljaw violently shook his head and jerked away once more, backing away from his rival nervously. He hated not knowing what was happening, and he most certainly could not imagine what Ravage's game was, and that made him angry and upset.

Ravage only looked even more amused, and with each scrambling step Steeljaw took backwards, Ravage took a calm step forward to match until Steeljaw finally had to stop lest he back right off of the table. This, Ravage used to her advantage and pressed her nose against Steeljaw's so she could purr right in his face. The purr turned into a growl of annoyance when Steeljaw leapt right over her head to the middle of the table and spun to face her again, and when Ravage approached him this time, Steeljaw looked ready to swing his paw at his rival and take off her jaw simply to make her stop the strange behavior.

It was at that point that Ravage decided the direct approach was probably the best option.

She circled around Steeljaw again, and when she passed behind the orange cassette, Ravage twisted her tail so it scraped underneath Steeljaw's own in a way that was entirely too blatant to be classified as "suggestive". A strange popping noise followed by an accompanying sizzle signified something - probably a logic circuit, Ravage surmised - frying. Shocked beyond reason at that point, Steeljaw could only watch in befuddlement as the black cassette circled back to his front and locked crimson optics with blue once more. Nothing his rival was doing added up - Ravage had just witnessed him stealing at least a week's worth of vital information yet had not tried to stop him and instead was, in fact, _hitting_ on him? Steeljaw sent a quiet request to Primus to let the world make sense again before every processor screeched to a halt when Ravage turned her back to him and sat down and-

Steeljaw stared stupidly for a moment when a panel between Ravage's shoulders slid aside and a few gears twisted to push outwards a port.

An _interfacing_ port Steeljaw's dumbfounded scrutiny clarified.

Ravage gave him a bored and rather impatient crimson glare over her shoulder as if to ask what he was waiting for. Steeljaw took just a moment to try to once again make sense of this turn of events before curiosity overpowered the need for reason, and he finally decided why the frag not?

Ravage gave an annoyed snort when she jerked forward a little but otherwise stayed in her spot on the table when Steeljaw pounced onto her back. The orange cassette anchored his front legs around the black cassette's and pressed his chest against Ravage's back as he opened his chest again to let his data cable out which quickly snapped into the exposed port.

The Decepticon cassette made the first move. She sent a jolt into her rival which made the entire length of the cable tingle from port to internals, and Steeljaw responded immediately with his own surge. It remained fairly slow at first, Ravage coaxing Steeljaw's firewalls into retracting so she could let her energy slide through her rival's wiring, and the Autobot cassette responded in kind, his own energy crackling like static while Ravage's was more like a wave of warmth not unlike the relaxing warmth which spread through his systems when he recharged by ingesting energon. Relaxed more and now convinced the black cassette was not going to try anything harmful, Steeljaw let the last of his firewalls ease away.

As soon as he did so, Ravage bombarded him with feedback in a rush that nearly made Steeljaw howl.

The Decepticon cassette expertly manipulated the data input and output so Steeljaw barely had an opportunity to return the flow of information - not that he complained. The orange cassette shuddered and twitched against Ravage's back, claws scraping lines into the grey metal of Ravage's legs as his body heated alarmingly fast and energy crackled between their connected parts. Ravage took very little - she only sent, and the stream of binary, coding, and data made Steeljaw reel, his tape screeching as it rewound all the way to the beginning where it snapped to a stop and fast-forwarded again. It might have alarmed him had he noticed, but the way Ravage made his circuits tingle and his cables tremble blocked out all other thoughts until his overload crashed upon him with an intensity he had never before experienced.

Steeljaw stumbled back away from Ravage as he came down from the dizzy clouding of his processors left behind by the experience. He shook his head, tendrils of smoke leaking from every tiny gap in his plating, and gave his rival a confused glance, wanting to ask what that was for, but something about Ravage's posture made him stop and think about it.

Ravage had turned to half-face him and had settled onto her side, front paws crossed and cradling her head. Her muzzle pulled back into a smug grin. She had to give Steeljaw credit for one thing: once he actually thought about it and ran a quick systems check, it did not take him long at all to finally figure out the black cassette's motives.

Steeljaw let out a startled snarl and jerked back, stumbling a few steps backwards. He wanted to tear into Ravage to retaliate the humiliation, but despite his anger, he knew he had already wasted too much time and needed to escape the Nemesis. He favored his rival with a heated glare which promised revenge before he bolted from the table and leaped up to scramble back through the vents and escape the same way he came. Ravage just lazily stood and loped out of the room to rejoin her brothers, immensely proud of herself.

--

"Blaster," Optimus Prime inquired at the following day's strategy meeting. "Why was Steeljaw unable to bring back any information?"

His communications officer could only shrug helplessly when he answered, "I have no idea - his data storage banks are wiped clean. Even his tape's completely blank, like some sort of surge wiped everything."

Prowl frowned as he asked, "What could have done that? Did he tell you what happened?" Blaster only shook his head once more. "Why won't he?"

Blaster shrugged again before he replied as he glanced over his shoulder to the far corner of the War Room where Steeljaw sat facing the wall, his shoulders bunched together and head lowered in shame.

"He won't say anything more than he's embarrassed."


End file.
